Crossroads Promises
by Bethgreenewarriorprincess
Summary: Beth and Daryl are settling at Pine Lake for the long winter. A deadly sickness sweeps through their tiny town and on the heels of tragedy, danger arrives in the form of vigilantes looking for revenge. Do Daryl and Beth have what it takes to survive the long hard winter out west? Find out in the sequel to Trail of Memories, Crossroads Promises. Bethyl Western AU, rated M.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _Beth stood before Daryl, her husband now, and her hands only trembled slightly as he approached her slowly, his eyes warm, soft, and so blue she could thought she could see to their depths in the soft glow of the lantern. She had just removed her wedding dress, which was really nothing more than an altered Sunday dress, a smock she'd had to cinch in at the waist but the buttons down the front were mother of pearl and simply lovely._

 _Mrs. Horvath, Irma, Beth reminded herself, had found it stashed in the back of her closet. It was a simple blue and white gingham smock with delicate eyelet lace. Irma had an extra swath of an astonishingly similar pattern of lace and had made Beth a beautiful make-shift veil that she'd only just removed. Daryl came up behind her where she stood at the dresser and it was hard to believe that they'd stood there a mere two weeks ago as he'd brushed her hair before she pinned it up in borrowed hairpins._

 _After removing her wedding dress, Beth was left standing in her pale yellow shift, also a cast-off from Irma but it clung to her in all the places that it should and when she looked in the mirror, she no longer saw a girl of nineteen. She saw a woman, hair hanging about her shoulders, curling softly to rest against the gentle swell of her breasts. Breasts that were near to heaving with Daryl right behind her, a ghost of his breath sliding over her neck. This was it. This was the moment they would actually become married._

 _The vows they'd spoken this morning were enough to say they were man and wife in the eyes of God but in the laws of man, even by the most modern standards, it meant nothing until they consummated their vows._

 _Beth couldn't wait for this. The anticipation was so great she could scarcely breathe. She turned away from her reflection, to face her husband and their future together, her eyes meeting his and seeing all the promises they had made to one another, stretched out before them._

 _They may be at a crossroads of their original journey, but this moment, this day was the most important of any. This day they were wed. This day, Elizabeth Anne Greene became Elizabeth Anne Dixon and she just couldn't be any happier._

* * *

 _ **Earlier that morning….**_

"Dearly beloved, friends, I stand here today to join together these two lovely people, Elizabeth Greene and Daryl Dixon in holy matrimony." Beth watched the gentle flutter of the bible's onion skin pages that the preacher held between his shaking hands standing before him. She guessed Dale hadn't given Pastor John much warning, springing a surprise (and somewhat secret) wedding upon him at the last minute.

Beth knew all too well the signs of withdrawal from the rye whiskey her daddy used to drink. She recognized the trembling in his hands and she struggled with tears thinking on her Daddy and how he should be here right now, standing behind her, giving his youngest daughter away in marriage.

She looked up at her intended and all that sadness fell away as the preacher continued his words and it was hard to believe that scarcely two weeks ago they'd arrived here in this town. It seemed as though it had been years in some regard, but in others it seemed only yesterday that they'd arrived in the wake of near tragedy when they'd lost nearly everything they owned in a storm.

Mr. Horvath had rousted the preacher from his bed as soon as he'd learned Beth and Daryl's plight. Of course that hadn't happened right away. It was two weeks of what Beth now considered torment before their situation came tumbling out. And that was that they were not really married as stated. Even a week ago though, she would have told anyone that this moment here, ready to marry the love of her life, was impossible.

Because Daryl and his code of honor had nearly done the both of them in. Especially that first morning. Being near this man without being able to touch him had nearly killed her as he'd wanted to protect her honor and refused to touch her before they were wed. Only they had already lied about being married and as each day passed, that lie built and built and snowballed until some days Beth didn't know what was the truth anymore. But it had started almost from the first night…..

* * *

 _ **Two weeks ago…..**_

Crazy. The woman was probably going to make him crazy within a few days. He'd thought he had reached his maximum capacity for restraint but when she'd come to bed dressed in nothing but her yellow chemise, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the places it mattered, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He'd had to avert his eyes as she climbed into the bed, the strap having slid over one shoulder revealing a generous curve of her breast to his wandering gaze. It had caused an immediate reaction elsewhere in his body.

He'd had no choice with his raging erection, but to turn over and pretend to be too tired to talk. It was certainly easier and less embarrassing than explaining to his betrothed that he had to turn away from her because of how painfully hard he was. Oh how he desperately wanted to bury himself inside what he knew would be the best thing he'd ever felt. But it would be wrong and he knew it. She knew it even if she was being stubborn about it. Damn woman was going to be the death of him yet. He wished he'd never let the old man believe they were married. Why he hadn't figured it out before now he would never know. Then again, they were acting enough like an old bickering married couple.

"Goodnight to you too then." He heard her mutter.

"Sorry, 'm just tired." He mumbled back, feeling instantly like the ass he was. It wasn't entirely a lie even if it did taste sour coming off his tongue. But he felt like shit for being the one to make those exasperated sighs come from her lips as she tossed and turned behind him, running into him with her backside more than once and he had bite back a curse to keep from turning over and finally having his way with her. It's what they both wanted.

He sighed to himself and the breath shuddered back out of him quietly. Yeah, crazy. He would definitely be crazy in the space of several days.

* * *

The whole thing came to a head one random Friday morning. After his 12th sleepless night in a row where he'd told Beth, again, in no uncertain terms that they were not going to act as husband and wife in that way until they were properly wed. He would not sully her reputation like that. He may not have been raised like a good Southern gentleman but he was damn sure going to act like one.

"It's stupid at this point Daryl. We are already sleeping in the same bed. We are in the same room. My reputation doesn't mean a damn thing." She said hotly and he looked up sharply as she finished lacing up her boots and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at him.

The curse sounded foreign on her lips at the same time it did things to his insides, twisting his gut all up something fierce until he was standing right in front of her. "So it's ruined already huh and you're all ready to make it worse. I won't do it to ya Beth. I assume at some point, we'll find your folks and I wanna be able to look your old man in the eye and know that I didn't touch his little girl until we was married up proper."

She sighed. It was getting old. He took a step back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It was barely 6:00 a.m. and he was already getting a headache.

"We'll figure something out." He finished and turned away.

He wasn't expecting her to grab his wrist and he veered back around.

"I'm not done talking about this." Her eyes flashed at him again, those pools of blue like steel and flint. This woman was a fire all her own. She wasn't backing down this time. Hellfire and brimstone, he was so tired of this argument.

"Well I am." His voice raised up one octave and her face fired up red. Not in a blush like it normally did but in real anger and he thought maybe for a minute she might actually hate him.

"Why do you get to decide this? Why can't I have a say? You don't get to make the rules Daryl Dixon. You aren't my father, you are my _fiancé_." She practically spat the last word at him. He looked at her a long moment, trying to decide if he wanted to shake her or kiss her and before he could figure out which it was they heard a soft rap on their bedroom door.

His eyes flew to hers. Guilt flooded through him as their shouts had likely woken the whole inn. Beth let go of his wrist and he walked over to the door and prepared to be scolded properly. It was thoughtless with the way they were shouting this early in the moring and he just hoped whoever was on the other side wasn't too pissed off.

It was Dale and Irma both. Well, then, he guessed that was that, they were both fucked.

He opened the door fully and Beth came up behind him. "We are so sorry if we woke you Irma." Beth appealed to Mrs. Horvath.

Dale spoke up from beside her. "Meet us both in the sitting room. We want to talk to you both. We think we have a solution to your problem."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak. "We don't-" he began. But Dale interrupted.

"It's okay. We aren't upset. Just meet us downstairs once you're ready for the day." Dale insisted and Irma was smiling from beside him and though Daryl didn't feel much like smiling, he returned it nonetheless and shut the door behind them as they took their leave.

He turned to face Beth whose face had gone wide with surprise. "Well, what do you suppose that's about? Did you tell them anything?" She whispered fiercely.

Daryl shook his head as he pulled his boots on. "I suppose it's time for us to go find out what it is they think can be done. Maybe this is better that they know."

* * *

"Beth this dress is going to look positively lovely on you when I'm finished with it." Irma declared from beside her. She'd already insisted emphatically that she address her as such. Things were so different out here than they were back home in Atlanta. Though the Greenes hadn't exactly been rich by most standards, they did well enough and as such both Greene girls had been to cotillion and were considered Southern belles.

Maggie had an intended suitor before the war, but word had been sent that he'd died. Maggie had been heartbroken. The war had broken nearly all of them and they were split up now. Beth forced her thoughts to Irma, holding the dress out. It was gorgeous with it's bright blue gingham print.

"It doesn't look like it was ever worn." Beth remarked as she held to her while Irma sifted through drawers and chests, searching for something.

"It wasn't dear. I made it and just never had the chance to wear it out here. Never had an occasion. But we do now." She walked over to Beth and placed her hand on her arm with a gentle smile. "You are going to be a lovely bride."

Irma and Dale had very sweetly suggested a quick morning ceremony on the morrow and Beth and Daryl had quietly agreed. It would just be the four of them and the preacher and possibly his son. They wanted to keep it quiet to avoid any possible scandal. But as Dale had explained very bluntly. "People out here didn't care about high falutin' societal rules."

Daryl had looked at him blankly for a moment until what he'd said registered with him. "Most folks are married by common law out here." Dale continued. "Preachers are mighty hard to find. Hell, our own is near useless."

"Dale Horvath, that is unkind. Pastor John is our friend." Irma had scolded him. He'd looked properly chagrined and Beth wondered if there would come a time that she would chastise her own husband and fought to suppress a smile, realizing they'd already butted heads on more than one occasion. They weren't even married yet and they already had it down. If Irma and Dale could make a marriage work out here in these dark lands, then she and Daryl could too. Even if they didn't know each other all that well, they would get to know one another.

Beth looked at the older woman now. She looked like she wanted to say something. "What is it?" Beth asked softly.

"I was just thinking that this would be what it would have been like had the mister and I have children of our own." Irma said, a wistful faraway look in her eyes.

Beth felt sorry for her, not ever knowing the joy of a child. She tried not to let her mind flit ahead to little ones of her own, but it was hard. It was the day before her wedding after all and everyone knew that babies came after marriage.

Beth thought for a moment and how maybe in some ways this lovely woman and her could fill a surrogate role in the other. "My own mama isn't here today, but I am sure she'd be right proud that you were standing here in her place."

Beth knew she'd said the right thing when the woman turned her kind deep brown eyes on Beth and they filled with tears.

"Well, dear, I believe you are right. She patted Beth's hand. "Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, Beth, but did your mother tell you of things that are expected of a young bride on her wedding night?" She whispered the last part, as if Beth were being let in on some big conspiratorial secret and she had to admit she did have a certain curiosity but she very likely wouldn't have discussed them with her mother. She flushed as she looked at Irma, a little shy but finally opening her mouth to speak.

"I grew up on a farm, so I know how things work. Just I have one question." She said hesitantly. She was curious and since the older woman had brought it up, she felt comfortable asking. "Does it hurt much?"

"Only the first time. And only a little." She walked over to her dresser and pulled aside a few items and pulled out a bottle.

"I've been saving this for a special occasion." She said holding up the decanter of amber colored liquid. "The mister and I have never been much for spirits and the occasion just hasn't come up, but this would be put to good use. Just have a glass of this when you get to your room. Relax, unwind. You don't have to jump straight into the bed. Just let it happen. It can be a beautiful thing between two people."

Beth took in the woman's words like her mind was a sponge wanting to soak it all up. "Thank you." She said simply. She parted ways with Irma, she had rooms to tend to and the older woman looked like she could use a nap, especially since she and Daryl had roused the both of them from sleep this morning with their what was now deemed to be a silly argument.

By this time tomorrow, she would be Mrs. Daryl Dixon. And tonight, Daryl would have no more excuses and they could finally give in to this unbearable tension between them. She felt exhilarated and flushed as she set about her chores for the day Tomorrow she would wed. Tomorrow she would no longer be Beth Greene, the Southern belle, barely more than a girl. She would be Beth Dixon, the pioneer wife of Daryl Dixon. She was proud and she hoped fervently that one day she could find her family and he could meet them because she just knew they'd love him every bit as much as she did. She hoped his brother would feel the same way about her.

But first things first, she had three rooms to clean and lunch to prepare and it was already going on 10:00 a.m. She had to get a move on. Life didn't stop out here for social gatherings. It was hard and rough and that's how they survived. Still, she couldn't help but hum a tune while she worked and before long she was singing.

The journey out here had taken everything from her. Her family, most of her belongings, her innocence of the world. But it had not stolen her joy because she simply wouldn't let it. She sang the whole morning, her chores flying by in a flurry of activity. She scarcely noticed when it was time to turn in for the night. But once she did, she laid beside Daryl who was already fast asleep, unable to fall asleep herself. He was exhausted after a long day at the lumberyard and he had a long day again tomorrow after their quick ceremony. She fell asleep thinking on what her married life might be like. She hoped it would be like her parents. Like that of Irma and Dale. A lasting sort of love.

* * *

Daryl stood in the parlor that the missus had brightened up with flowers from the edge of the woods and around the property early this morning. It was barely on 8 a.m. this Saturday morning Dale waited quietly beside him at first, neither men really saying much.

"Thanks for finding a preacher for us. It means a lot to Beth and me." He wasn't good with words and never had been but he figures the least he can do is express his gratitude.

"It was nothin' son." Dale said with an easy smile and Daryl regarded him for a long minute. Son. That term hadn't ever been uttered in Daryl's presence without a connecting fist or some barb coming from his old man's mouth. "I admire your sense of honor, Daryl. Not many men would have been able to do what you did. You were raised in the south, right? Things out here are different and people don't always abide by those conventions anymore, but you were right to stick by your morals. That's the way it should be."

Daryl felt the tips of his ears flush a bit at the older man's words. "Weren't no honor or the thing to do. Ain't nobody taught me that." Daryl didn't mean it to come out the way it sounded but he could have never expected Dale's response just as the preacher and his son came through the door, the little bell outside the parlor tinkling to warn of visitors at the inn.

"Well, Daryl some men are taught honor and some are born honorable. I don't have to guess which kind you are."

There wasn't time to respond and even if there had been, Daryl doesn't know what he could have said. He thought about it though while he waited for his bride to come downstairs from whatever fuss the missus was making over her. Dale had found some clothing for him and he was donned in probably the nicest garments he'd ever worn. A pair of black breeches with fine kid leather lace up boots, a white shirt with mother of pearl buttons down the front and a black waistcoat that fit him rather well. When he'd looked in the mirror before walking out of the small room Dale and the missus had provided for him to get ready in. It was his wedding day, the missus had insisted and she'd supplied him with a strop razor and bathwater and he figured that he was meant to clean himself up and present himself like a real gentleman.

While he waited, he thought on Dale's words. He didn't know what the true meaning of the word honor was, he didn't think. He had never known honorable men in his life. He knew the man that had just uttered those words to him was honorable. He wouldn't be sleeping under the same room with him relatively unarmed if he thought otherwise.

He thought on when he'd arrived and needed a new wagon for their trip and how this man had trusted him and urged him to go back to Beth and how she could have been in danger. Without a thought he had given him his horses. Daryl could have been anyone but Dale had trusted him.

So had Beth, a little voice inside his head whispered. Little by little the voice of his brother that always seemed to drown out good sense, had been replaced by a different one. Stiller, smaller, more him somehow. And that's the voice that had told him he wasn't touching Beth until they were married. He had more honor _for her_ than that.

The subject of his thoughts came into the room then and he thought he lost his breath. She was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He knew Beth was pretty. Blonde hair and those bright blue eyes that when she'd set them on him, he became someone else. Somehow he thought he became the man she saw when she looked at him. Something in her eyes. Trust. Devotion. _Honor_. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, wondering if it was possible the old man was right because if that's what Beth saw, then it must be true.

These are things that are so foreign to Daryl as Beth comes into the room, holding the bouquet of daisies he'd picked for her, her hands resting with her bundle lightly against the backdrop of her dress, he watches her walk to him with quiet purpose. He couldn't tell you what the dress was made of; only that it matched her eyes perfectly and she was gorgeous in it.

"Hi." She said shyly with a smile as she came to stand beside him in front of the preacher.

"Hey, yourself." He couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face. "You look real pretty, Beth."

She beamed at him and he knew he was right for saying it. He thought maybe he'd tell her that every day just to see her face light up with that smile. "You clean up nice too, Mr. Dixon." She said with a sultry smile and his insides twisted up at her words.

"Let's get married." He said with a grin and held out his hand to her. As she placed her hand into his and the preacher began to speak it hit him with sudden realization that this was really happening. Dixons didn't get happy endings but Daryl was getting one, with the girl he'd saved on the bank of a river.

Every day since, she had been saving him. From this day forward, they would cleave together as one. From this day forward, they would save each other.

* * *

Beth felt her heart tripping over itself as she saw Daryl standing there in front of the preacher, face clean-shaven, hair combed, and looking every bit a gentleman coming to call. Except he wasn't coming to call. He was to be her husband.

When she'd dreamed of becoming wed when she was a little girl, she had imagined a thousand scenarios. She had spent countless hours weaving a crown of flowers from the violets that grew in a thick carpet in the meadow behind the house on the plantation dreaming about the faceless man she would someday marry. Somehow in all the stories she'd created in her head in all their elaborately remote details, she couldn't think of anything more romantic than the scene right in front of her. Her betrothed standing beside the preacher, her walking into the parlor holding the bright yellow daisy bouquet that he had picked for her himself was better than anything she could have dreamed up.

When she'd first opened her eyes looking up into his ruggedly handsome face, bedraggled and worn from her jaunt down the river, she had never imagined that it would lead to this moment, her heart thrumming in her chest and tripping over itself in anticipation. She loved him so much that sometimes it felt as if her heart actually stopped beating for a moment just to catch up to itself, steadying out the beats until she could breathe once more.

She felt thus as the preacher continued his words and she committed them all to memory even as she repeated her vows.

"I, Beth, take thee Daryl, to be my lawfully wedded husband."

She would take him. She would take him and hold him and cherish him and do all those things.

" _I promise to love, honor and keep you, forsaking all others for long as we both shall live."_

Though she knew that this was only a stopping place, this was where it all began, this moment. And if things were different she knew they could stay here in Pine Lake. They could live here the rest of their lives. Together.

Beth looked at Daryl as she spoke the words to him and she knew she'd never seen this look on his face before. This unabashed adoration and trust and his voice shook as he repeated the same words back to her.

"I promise to love, honor and keep you, forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live." His voice was gruff and awash in unshed tears and it evoked a response in her so deeply powerful that she felt she could weep herself into an eternal see of longing and throw her head back and laugh at the sky at the same time.

"I now pronounce you man and wife." A smile crept its way onto Daryl's face and reached all the way to his eyes as he just stared at her.

"You can kiss your bride Daryl." Dale's voice came from directly behind them and Beth couldn't suppress that laughter one moment longer. It bubbled up out of her just as Daryl took her in her arms and kissed her just like every blushing bride should be. A kiss she felt all the way to her toes.

After the ceremony, the preacher and his son stayed for a quick breakfast of eggs and coffee. Daryl had to get to the lumber yard before long. Everyone had jobs to do, she supposed.

A few minutes after breakfast Beth walked Daryl out to the portico on the front of the inn. She suddenly felt shy around him all the sudden and if anything, he had just caught his stride. He pulled on her hand and tugged her into his embrace. Her arms came easily around his middle and her fingers played at the red work shirt he'd donned for the day, wondering what it might be like to finally unfasten his buttons and slide her hands over his skin. She looked up into his face and he smiled down easily at her.

"You're looking pretty pleased with yourself." She remarked good naturedly as he reached up and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes.

He just shook his head. "Just happy is all." Her heart soared at his words.

"Me too, Daryl."

He bent his head to hers and sealed his lips over hers in a soft kiss full of promise. Of things to come.

She sighed as he stepped away and his steps were nearly in a saunter as he backed his way off the portico and tipped his hat at her and took his leave.

As Beth went back inside, she thought on all the things tonight would bring with a well of longing. With a skip in her step, she went back inside and started the day's chores. It was going to be a long day waiting for the coming night.

* * *

Daryl walked to the lumber yard with a lightness in his footing that he hadn't felt in-. He nearly stopped short at the realization that he had never felt this way before. All his life, going from one place to another, every road he'd walked, he'd felt the weight of his past and who he was on his back.

He'd borne the scars of his childhood for so long that it had long since gone more than skin deep, seeping into his very marrow, weighting him down and making every step he took cumbersome.

And then he'd met Beth. His wife, he reminded himself. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered the surprised little gasp as he'd pulled her into his arms on the porch and kissed her in front of God and everyone.

"Daryl, someone will see." She'd protested and her face had flushed bright crimson. She was about the prettiest thing he'd ever seen as he'd pulled away, her lips shiny with his spit and her eyes heavy with want.

"Don't matter. We're married, remember?"

She'd laughed lightly at him and shook her head as he walked away and as he did, he couldn't help the sense of pride that washed over him in knowing that this time tonight, she would be well and truly his. For the taking. And by the look in her eyes, she was ready for it.

* * *

Beth stood there staring at her husband as his broad and muscled shoulders flexed as his sturdy arms and hands wielded the ax held firmly in his grip. His bronzed skin glistened in the midday sun where he was working at the edge of the forest.

For all the threat of winter before, there didn't seem to be any signs of it today. The late autumn day was unseasonably warm and she knew his job chopping and shaping the ties for the railroad was hard, back-breaking work but oh my, she didn't know that it would make his arms look quite like that. She wondered how it might feel with his bare arms wrapped around her bare body. A flush broke out over her entire body as heat worked its way from the pit of her core outward until she thought she might ignite in flames. She averted her gaze for a moment, embarrassed that looking upon his form could stir such thoughts, then realized, it was completely allowed. He was her _husband_ now, after all.

Still, it probably wasn't proper to be ogling one's husband in public, even if he was hers in every sense of the word. Her pulse fluttered wildly in her throat for a moment and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. _This was Daryl_ , she thought, _stop being so ridiculous_.

She approached slowly and kept her gaze on her Daryl's back and not on the dozen or so men who turned to look at her as she walked across the wide expanse of yard at the edge of the forest on the parcel of land that had been selected to harvest the trees for the miles and miles of railroad ties needed for the Pacific Railway.

She could feel all those eyes on her as she approached him, his lunch packed carefully in the basket she carried. But she paid no attention to any of them. She only had eyes for those of her husband who turned as he realized all the activity around him in the lumber yard had suddenly stopped. His eyes rested on hers and though it had only been mere hours since he had left her just after they'd spoken their vows and been pronounced husband and wife, it felt like it had been much longer.

His eyes traveled over the length of her as she reached his side and he hopped down from the stump he was standing on and tossed his sawing tool to the side. If he was bothered by the fact that he was standing in front of her bare-chested to her open gaze, it certainly didn't show.

No, she thought, if anything, the corners of his mouth were turned up with a bit of mirth at seeing her flush so mightily as she struggled to keep her eyes to his face and tried not to let her gaze stray to where it seemed to drawn, to his broad and muscled shoulders or lower to his chest. She took another deep breath and drew her eyes upward.

Instead she concentrated on the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as he reached up and wiped his red rag across it. Beth made a mental note to find some more cloth to cut up for him to repurpose out here. Even in the cold, he was bound to work up a sweat. It was odd thinking how all that moisture on his body made her mouth go absolutely dry. She fought to control her breathing as she looked up at him.

His grin broadened and he leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Hi there, Mrs. Dixon." Her drawled. His voice was so gruff that, _heavens_ , her heart flipped over in her chest five times when he said those words. There was something so possessive in his tone and she kind of thought she liked it. This being married thing was sure getting interesting, she thought.

"Hi yourself, Mr. Dixon." She smiled at him.

She thought her face must be the shade of his rag when he pulled back. She could feel all the other men's eyes on them and she cleared her throat and gestured with a roll of her eyes in the direction of all the attention completely on them at the current moment.

"What's a matter, you never seen a man's wife bring his lunch before?" Daryl bellowed and Beth could see that the men respected him already as they all scrambled to get back to work. She had to admit her husband commanded a certain presence about him. Though she had never been afraid of him, she had been wary of him when they'd first met. Of course now, she knew that he was all softness underneath that rough and dusty exterior.

"Daryl." She said softly with a small grin. She didn't know how to convey the fact that their love life was suddenly the main attraction of everyone in town.

"Not one as pretty as yours boss." A man in a black cowboy hat said from across the way and a couple of the others whistled low.

Daryl glared at them hotly and Beth reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling on it. "Come on, let's go have a picnic real quick."

He looked back at his crew who had all conveniently looked away. Beth fought the urge to chuckle at his sour expression when he turned back around. "Surely you aren't jealous of those men." She whispered as they sat on one of the long logs that looked freshly split. It was so large that Beth's feet dangled off the ground slightly as she sat beside him.

He looked at her, properly chagrined and shrugged his shoulders, mumbling. "Mmmhmmm?"

She nudged him gently with her shoulder and then impulsively pressed a quick chaste kiss to his cheek. "Well you shouldn't. They may get to look but only _you_ get to touch." Her breath left her body with her last word. She hadn't meant it to sound so downright wanton, but it came out that way and as Daryl sputtered on the drink of water he'd just taken out of the wineskin she'd brought with her, her face fired up in a blush and she wondered how long they'd be married before she would stop feeling like this around him. She thought she sort of secretly hoped she'd always feel this giddy, lovestruck feeling like she was tumbling down a long hill, fast and free. She laughed softly as his eyes met hers and she smiled shyly. "It's true." She shrugged.

He looked at her for a long minute and finished eating the sandwich she'd brought him, two pieces of ham between thick slices of bread. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and she thought she saw the telltale sign of a grin behind his hand. Her heart fluttered something awful because she knew he was thinking about the evening ahead and how he indeed would get to touch her.

He glanced in her direction and she made a mental note to cut his hair soon. The more she could see his eyes the better. She thought maybe it would best if she could know when those smoldering looks were sent her way, as far in advance as possible.

A short time later, Beth was walking away and the only gaze she could feel on her backside as she headed back in the direction of the inn was her husband's and she wondered how in the world she was ever going to wait until tonight. Her wedding night.

* * *

 _Daryl approached her at the dresser where she was taking down her hair. The golden waves were cascading down her shoulders, the curve of them so small and slight in whatever slip of nothing yellow fabric she had left on. He had watched out of the corner of his eye as she'd taken her dress off. It was sort of unspoken between them, undressing as they would for bed any other night, though they both knew that it wasn't. It wasn't just any other night. This was their wedding night and though he knew what to do, he knew what was supposed to happen; he also sort of didn't. Because he had been with women before. But not like this. And not with women like Beth._

 _He'd certainly never expected to be someone's husband. After seeing what marriage was from the eyes of a child he was fairly certain he wanted no part of that._

 _It was palpable, the tension in the room, as he was directly behind her and she smelled like absolute heaven on earth and thought it might be some of that lilac soap he'd found in the general store on his way back from the yard last week. He wanted to bury his nose in the curve of her neck and she was his wife and so he did. He let her feel his breath on her skin and he thought he might have heard a small gasp as she brought her hands up to his head, her small fingers curling through his hair as she held her fast to him as if to hold his lips to her skin._

 _He brought his head up and his eyes met hers in the mirror then and he barely recognized this woman before him now. His wife. His beautiful wife. He could scarcely believe he was being permitted to put his hands upon such exquisite beauty._

 _He reached down and untied the drawstring on his breeches and let them fall to the floor, leaving him bare. She watched as he did so, the weight of her stare pulling her eyes into a wanton slant. His erection stood proud between them and he had to physically press his feet to the floor to keep from surging his hips forward into her backside; the urge to do so was just that powerful._

 _With one glance at his gaze in the mirror, she turned in his arms and lifted her own and he knew then that she meant him to remove this last barrier of clothing between them. He reached down and gripped the hem of the delicate fabric in his hands pulling upward, and everything slowed to an absolute crawl, all the breath leaving his body as he cast it aside. The yellow gauzy material fell to the floor, lying a pool of moonlight. A goddess moon to be sure, he thought. His goddess stood before him, ready to be worshipped; glorious, naked and beautiful. His Beth. His beloved wife._

 _Daryl Dixon was now a married man._

* * *

 **Here it is! The long awaited (far too long and I am deeply sorry for that) sequel to Trail of Memories, my Bethyl Western AU, now an official series. This installment, "Crossroads Promises" is part 2 of the planned three fic series. The next chapter will be their wedding night and as you might imagine, it takes some time to put that together in readable fashion. This chapter was sort of meant to be a reimagining of the Outlander Wedding where it's told in vignette fashion. I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. xoxoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm again so sorry it took so long to get this update to you. I blame it on the fact that publishing a book is daunting as hell and took longer than I thought it would. So here we are, months after and wow, poor Daryl and Beth, just waiting to consummate those vows and yes I feel every bit the cruel hearted writer for leaving the characters and you, my beloved readers, literally hanging like that. So without further adieu, I give you: The Wedding Night**

Chapter 2

Beth can scarcely breathe as she stands there in front of the man who has become her husband. Though the sips of whiskey she and Daryl shared in the bottle between them has loosened the cords in her legs somewhat, she still feels slightly stiff as she stands there watching his eyes as they rake over her skin.

They comb over her naked form as if he were a gardener tending new blooms, each flick of his eyes over every inch of her skin a tender caress. It feels as if he is peeling her back, petal by soft petal, his eyes roving over the curve of her bosom, sliding past her flat belly that is nearly quivering until finally they come to rest upon the triangle of curls at the top of her thighs.

She blushes down to her bones at the thought of his eyes upon her barest place but she also makes no move to cover herself. She is well and truly his this night and so she lets him look his fill. _And he does_.

He looks upon her as a man might look as he is starving out in the desert plains. She swallows past the sudden thickness in her throat and recognizes that now familiar ache and pull that settles deep in her belly and pulses between her thighs where he is still just looking.

Suddenly it's as if he senses that he is staring and his eyes tentatively meet hers. He makes no apology though and for that she is glad. All she can see reflected in his gaze is the same hunger that has awakened inside her very marrow.

She doesn't think she can bear it if he backs away now but at any rate, she does not think that he will. Her eyes shift to his chest, taking in the hard planes and lines; evidence of all the hard work he endures out in the noonday sun painting his skin a golden brown.

Her fingers come up of their own accord to rest over his chest, combing through the sparse hairs as they take a step closer to one another. It looks almost strange, but deliciously so, her pale white skin lying across his much darker tone but it's alluring all the same and she can't stop the tracing of her fingers lower and lower until finally he is close within her grasp. She looks down and a soft gasp falls from her lips unbidden.

 _There_. His manhood stands proud between them; erect and ready. Just beyond her fingertips, the warmth is emanating from him as his length is within reach and she can't process how hard and thick he appears and she wonders briefly how he will fit and simultaneously aches at the thought of being filled up by him.

She moans as his fingers come up to her shoulder and they skate over the surface of her skin, tracing one finger over her collarbone as his fingers explore and his eyes follow their trail. She looks up at him and just watches for a moment, the rapt wonder etched into his features as his hands explore every inch of her body, warmth spreading within and settling into her belly.

She thinks of Irma's words and how she said they didn't need to fall straight into bed and she thinks that maybe as wise as the older woman is, she is wrong about this one thing because the words come out in a rush. "Can we lie down on the bed?"

His eyes flash to hers then and for a moment, she worries that he'll stop all this. Maybe it was too much to suggest. But then he's nodding and he suddenly leans down and picks her up as he did on the threshold of this very room as a husband does his blushing bride. Except then, she was very much clothed and now, she is completely naked. She flushes anew and she has to remind herself that this is her husband sweeping her up into his arms; her husband lovingly tucking her into his embrace as if she weighs no more than a sack of flour.

She feels lighter than air as he whisks her across the room, the skin of her backside resting against the crook of his arm, the hairs on it tickling across her flesh in the most delicious way. A shudder runs through her as carries her to the edge of the bed that stands in the exact center of the room. He leans down slowly, his gaze not breaking hers as he places her gently in the center of their bed, the mattress only giving slightly as he lies next to her his fingers back on her skin instantly as they continue their exploration of her neck.

Beth feels a curious urge to stretch her back and it reminds her of one of the barn cats on a hot summer day as she luxuriates in Daryl's gaze and arches herself into the mattress, as if she is somehow seeping into it, as his hand comes up to caress one breast and then the other, thumbs grazing over her nipples and teasing a soft gasp from her lips.

He leans up over her, his arms broad and flexed and that gaze, that hunger, is more searing than ever. He slots his lips over hers and her mouth opens to his kiss, his tongue slipping inside, licking and tasting. He pulls back to suck her lower lip between his teeth and bites gently and she moans deep in her throat at the rush of pleasure that runs through her.

For a moment, as he is pulling back to watch her as her head falls back to the pillow, she is caught in rapture as his mouth fastens over the skin below her near and gently sucks the tender flesh of her neck. She thinks then of all those stories she used to read of the girl in the woods running from the wolf. She always held her breath as he gave chase and the girl in the red riding cloak ran all the way to the safety of her grandmother's cottage.

Now she feels very much like that girl with the wolf at her throat and instead of running away, she is offering herself to him, his canines flashing at her in the dark of the moon and she thinks for a moment that he means to devour her; _she fervently hopes he does_.

Then as he brings one hand up her breast again, fingertips lightly circling the pert bud of her breast, her back is arching off the bed again, fingers clutching at the bedclothes until she can hold them no longer. For his mouth is licking a curvy path down her neck, tracing his tongue over her collarbone, to suckle at the hollow of her neck, that delicate flesh puddling under his tongue like his very lips are branding her with fire for his claiming. Her hands come up to clutch instead at his arms, her fingers barely coming to grip half of the breadth of them.

His fingers are still running light circles over her nipples and she feels that ache gathering tinder in her belly to ignite a fire to burn deep within her to gather curiously right between her thighs. It sparks and pulses and licks at her core as his fingers tease and squeeze and knead and he continues kissing her neck and his lips slide down lower and lower and she thinks she understands why it's called a consummation of vows. Because she literally feels she is about to be consumed alive by the fire he has awakened within her and that pulsing between her thighs just intensifies with each brush of his thumb over her breasts.

"Daryl." His name slips past her lips to hang in the air between them, now thick with the scent of arousal and he pulls his lips from her chest to look at her.

She wishes there were words to describe how he looks as his eyes meet hers, a bit glazed and unfocused, lips spit-shined and red from his ministrations and she reaches both hands up to still on both sides of his grizzled cheek.

"Beth." His one word reply is all she needs to hear from him as she is thrusting her tongue into his mouth, offering herself to him in blood and bone and all that she is. Like a sword to a whetstone his tongue laves inside her mouth as she kisses him with fervor that she is barely beginning to understand is just the start of their passion.

It's like she wants all of him at once and she thinks perhaps he feels the same way as his mouth deepens the kiss. Her fingers slide over his abdomen where he is lying beside her and she loves the feel of the coarse hairs of his belly under her fingertips.

His breath catches as she lets her hand hover just above his hard length and as her fingers come to grip his member, he gasps into her mouth and she pulls away to look at where her hand has encircled his girth. She has no idea what she is doing but she loves the feel of his hard and heavy weight in her hand.

Of all the things she has imagined, of all the times she heard the whisperings of what happens between a man and woman behind closed doors, this was not what she expected. Where she had come to expect a quick and hurried act in the dark, her face pressed into the bed as her lover takes his pleasures from behind, she is instead laid out before her husband like a fine meal that has lovingly and painstakingly been prepared. She thinks vaguely as her hands grip him tighter in her ministrations that perhaps she has been preparing her whole life for this moment- the moment she would belong to another; it's everything she hoped for and nothing she expected and it's all very perfect.

His fingers come up over hers and he presses his fingers in slightly and she understands that he wants her to squeeze slightly and she does. The result is exquisite with Daryl moaning long and deep, breathing fast into her neck. He moves his hand over hers mimicking the actions he desires from her and she catches on fast, sliding her hand over his length just so on every pass. Daryl is grunting into her neck and then, just as quickly, he is pulling her hand off of him. _This is it_ , she thinks. He is going to stop them now and this ache between her thighs will never be answered. She looks up at him fully prepared to argue but what she sees there stops her instantly.

She has never seen such ravenous desire upon another man's face before and just before he flashes his canines at her again and his lips claim hers, she thinks again of the wolf and she is very much that caught girl, waiting to be devoured.

"God, Beth." Daryl can't quite believe she is in his arms and in their bed and all the past weeks between them, holding back and not giving in to their deepest needs, just melt away.

He thinks of the other very few times he has done this, looking through his scant amount of experience and finds that he has nothing to compare this to and he thinks it fitting that this girl of sunshine and hope is lying beneath him now. This girl, this woman, _his wife_ , he corrects himself, is his for the taking and by all appearances, she is ready.

She is ready in all the same ways that those other women were and at the same time, it is so different. Because he hasn't ever felt thus. Those experiences before were rushed and fumbled half attempts at soothing the loneliness of this world and they failed at every turn. Because at the end of the night when they rolled off of him, his seed painted over their bellies, he was lonelier than ever.

No, this was nothing like those other times and perhaps that is why he is so nervous as he brings his fingers up to Beth's thighs and runs his finger from her knee all the way up the line where her legs are pressed together so prettily, the tiny thatch of curls darker than the ones on her head covering what he desires. "So pretty." He murmurs as he looks up at her, her face pink with blush and he thinks he has never seen anything more alluring than his wife, so innocent, yet so heady laid out before him.

"I want to touch you." He whispers and he wonders if she'll let him and he looks to her, his cheeks probably fired up just as red as hers at his own selfish request but he thinks maybe this is the right thing. She is a maiden and raised up proper and though it's been awhile for him, he knows she hasn't ever done this before and he doesn't want to hurt her.

Maybe it's to reassure him, maybe it's to ease her discomfort, but all he knows is that touching her there with his fingers could surely help things along and he fervently wishes to do so. He leans up, bracing one hand over Beth's head, her eyes taking in his every move as she nods at him, her expression one of rapt wonder as she spreads her legs to make room for him between them.

And there she is, pink flesh glistening with the slick of her and he thinks a groan is ripped from his throat before he can stop it for all he can think is he wants to bury himself in there, tongue and teeth, and lap her up. But maybe another time; another night.

Her flat belly is rising and falling in a rapid rate as her thighs tremble just slightly before him but the look on her face is not one of fear. Instead, he watches as the cornflower blue of her eyes is choked out by desire and the one whisper that falls from her lips is " _please, Daryl_ " and he has never heard anything more beautiful in his life.

His fingers trace up the inside of one thigh and then the other and he marvels at how soft her skin is here, so untouched by the world or by man. Until now. He thinks he is the luckiest man alive to be the first to experience this as his fingers slide over where she is split so perfectly for him, her center wet with want and he knows before his thick digit enters her channel that she will be tight and _oh God she is_. She is so tight he doesn't know how he'll possibly last a minute, but he can't think about that now when Beth is moaning and writhing beneath him.

Sweet, soft gasps are being teased from her lips as he pulls his finger back out and pulses it back in slowly. Curiosity has his thumb exploring the little nub of flesh above her sex, where his finger is still working her open in small circles, and her hips come up off the bed as she cries out.

"Did I hurt you?" He stops immediately and he knows the fear is shining back in his eyes as her head comes up off the bed.

"No, no, _not at all_." Her whisper is almost pressured, like she can't speak. "Do it again." She says as she lies back on the bed again, completely relaxed under him.

He does as she asks. He had been thinking he couldn't get any harder but when his thumb finds that little hood of skin again, it's his turn to gasp as she cries out again in pleasure and his length hardens and he thinks she can surely feel it against her belly.

Her voice is gravelly as she whispers his name into the air around them, now thick with the scent of her and he continues to rub that tightened nub of flesh and work one finger in and out of her. Her fingers come up to the sides of his face and he takes in her half-closed eyes worked into a slant and her mouth forms a little 'o' as she gasps and then moans low and loud, reverberating off the walls of their room. He slots his lips over hers and swallows all her throaty cries as she falls apart under his fingers, her entire body trembling in the wake of her release.

A bit later, she is languid and loose, lying in the crook of his arm, as he finally breaks their kiss which has slowed to almost barely nothing brushes of his lips over hers as he whispers " _I love you_ " and his fingers are still lazily stroking the warm and now very wet, very swollen flesh between her legs.

She smiles up at him sleepily. "Oh my heavens, I love you too, Daryl Dixon." A little giggle slips past her lips and _god_ , he's smitten in that moment.

It's not long before her tiny fingers release their purchase on the back of his head and she works her hand between them, gripping his almost painfully hard length. She is shifting her hips to line up with his and he realizes she is more ready than he thought her to be. He chuckles at her enthusiasm.

"Slow down, we got all night." He says looking down at her and her face lights up in a smile.

"Good, then we can do it again." Her eyes spark with a heady combination of laughter and dark promise of things to come.

He smiles back at her and then all amusement is gone as her knees fall out to the side and he rests himself in the full cradle of her hips and works his hand between them to drag the head just so against her center where his fingers had been just moments ago. He has to suppress a groan at the memory of just how very tight she is going to be and _oh she is_. As he slides inside, her walls grip him almost painfully and he groans.

There is a moment as his length meets with resistance where he wonders if he'll fit but then she stretches around his girth and her walls come to grip him tighter. He pulls back to look into her eyes but there is still only warmth and desire.

He sees the wrinkle above her brow and he presses his to hers as he surges his hips forward tearing asunder that border that has before made her a girl and now has made her well and truly his; his wife, his love, _his life_ , he thinks. She whimpers slightly and he kisses her through it until her tiny whimpers turn to throaty moans.

As he pulls back out of her, the tight slide and hold of her walls stretched around him are almost blinding him with star-bright pulses behind his eyes and he thinks again how he may not last, but then she is gasping beneath him and matching his movements with thrusts of her own and he gets lost in that for a moment.

She is exquisite beneath him as he thrusts inside her again and again, hair curling around her shoulders, fanning out on the pillow, her head thrown back in pleasure, face flushed, lips wet and plumped from kissing him. He could die in this moment and never regret a thing in his life.

Her fingers come up to grip his back and he doesn't mind it. He doesn't mind her fingernails raking down over that marred surface for if she means to draw blood, it is hers for the taking. He drives himself in and out of her body and there is no longer any comparison to draw. This is nothing like those other times and nothing will ever be the same for him again.

There are soft little gasps coming from her mouth on each thrust and he raises his arms up a little better, hitching his hips higher to hit her just so with each pulse of his length in and out of her tight center. Her legs come up to wrap around his hips and suddenly everything shifts sideways and that familiar ache and tightness gathers in his groin and then he's tumbling far down a ravine, pleasure nearly blinding him as he grunts into her shoulders, spilling his seed deep inside her.

He comes down slowly like molasses has replaced the marrow in his bones and he slides off of her with a heavy fall onto the mattress beside her, taking her with him and pulling her into his arms.

She sighs prettily and he pulls back to look at the soft sleepy smile on her face. His heart nearly catapults from his chest in that moment, she looks so sweet to him. "I love you." He barely recognizes his voice as he pulls back away from her and she tucks her head up under his chin and curls into his side, fingers coming to rest on his hip.

"I love you too, Mr. Dixon." She says, the final word punctuated with a yawn. He has to chuckle then at her earlier assurance that they would be having repeat performances.

He doesn't know what he did to deserve her, his beautiful angel that right now looks completely defiled by him, their legs intertwined and sticky in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He feels very much the wicked devil for doing it, but he isn't sorry. She's his wife, after all and he is her husband.

He thinks of the journey that brought them here, to this town, to this tiny room of this small inn in the middle of nowhere and knows that this is where he is supposed to be. From a cabin in the middle of the woods to the banks of a river, to this woman's arms, he'd never guessed that this was what he'd always been looking for all along: a place to call home.

Pine Lake might be a stopping place along the way, a mere crossroads town, but right here, with Beth safely tucked in his arms and drifting off to sleep, he knows he's found his resting place.

 **Hope it was worth the wait, now I'm going to go hide as I always do when I post smutty stuff and thangs. Enjoy and leave me love on your way out, pretty please, xoxoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

_October Snow by Lew Sarett_

 _Swiftly the blizzard stretched a frozen arm_ _  
From out the hollow night-  
Stripping the world of all her scarlet pomp,  
And muffling her in white._

Dead white the hills; dead white the soundless plain;  
Dead white the blizzard's breath-  
Heavy with hoar that touched each woodland thing  
With a white and silent death.

In inky stupor, along the drifted snow,  
The sluggish river rolled-  
A numb black snake caught lingering in the sun  
By autumn's sudden cold.

Beth opened her eyes to the soft grey light of dawn coming through the windows and stretched, her lips curving into a smile before her mind even had time to catch up to the events of the night before. She accounted that hazy, sleepy, almost intoxicated feeling to the warm weight of Daryl's hand on her backside, moving in slow and gentle circular motions as she slept curled on her side.

She moaned in concert to the slide of his hand ever lower to dip in; in, where wetness was already gathering between her legs.

"So you _are_ awake?" She decided in that moment that Daryl's rasp, low and rumbling in her ear as his lips swept down the side of her neck in a series of small slow kisses, was her new favorite sound.

"Well I am _now_." She was a little breathless as she answered, but a giggle floated out of her lips as she turned over and into his arms. She knew her hair must look a fright but she couldn't care, because his hands had not halted on their southward pursuit and she groaned in anticipation of his touch, _there_ where she ached for him to fill her once again.

She would think he would have tired of her by now or that his appetite had been satisfied. But perhaps she was most of all surprised by her own seeming insatiable desire for him. They had made love twice more in the night and if the awakening ache in her core was to be answered, she was guessing they were about to go for a fourth round and they had not left their bedroom since they'd entered it the night before.

It was not quite dawn though and they had a bit of time before they needed to get their day started. And evidently Daryl thought so too. She looked down at her husband and took in the dark of his eyes and the almost wolfish grin on his face and she was reminded of her musings the night before.

It seemed she was right and he was the wolf come to stake his claim. As his lips coursed ever lower, following the intricate path laid out by his exploring fingertips, her thighs parted of their own free will, his open and lusting gaze there upon her barest place.

Her cheeks fired up with a fierce blush as he pulled back to just look at her. She wondered if she would always feel thus; naked and exposed and yet so wanting of that feeling all at the same time. Her back arched off the bed, her fingers clutching the bedsheets as his fingers dipped into her wetness and she thought she'd never feel anything so good as when Daryl's fingers moved inside her, curling them just so until she was writhing beneath him, her hips surging into his hand.

"I want to kiss you here." His voice brought her out of her haze of pleasure for a moment and her head popped up off the pillows to regard him as he waited for her response to his question that wasn't necessarily a question as much as a humble statement of his wishes. Oh, _he was serious_ , his face etched in plain and open desire. A surge of wetness flooded between her thighs as the implications of his words settled into her mind.

He wanted to put his lips _there_. There upon her barest place and the very thought of it drew a soft whimper from the back of her throat as all she could do was look at her husband and nod mutely. It was odd that it had never crossed her mind, this thing he was suggesting, but now that he had voiced his desire, she could think of nothing else.

Nothing else, but the sensation of Daryl positioning himself between her spread legs, the slide of the quilt stitching on her backside as he pulled her gently towards the end of the bed to meet his waiting mouth.

His grizzled stubble on the delicate skin of her inner thigh sent a shiver up her spine just before his hands settled on her hips and pulled her to him, nosing at the hairs that covered her sex and inhaling deeply. He flashed a grin at her just before dipping his head back down, canines flashing in the early morning light and she was lost in his eyes for a moment, trapped under a hunter's gaze, ready to be devoured at last.

He didn't waste time. Where his fingers' first exploration had been a sort of a tiptoeing of soft and tentative swipes, his tongue marked its target quickly, parted her with ease and found that nub at the top of her sex. The tip of his tongue circled that tightened bud in sharp concert to his finger parting her center and entering her core. She couldn't help the wanton groan that ripped from her throat as her hands found purchase in his hair, clutching the strands. To hold on? To hold him there where his tongue was creating delicious wave after wave of pleasure, flowing up and down her spine?

She wasn't sure.

But as he delved his tongue into her center, her hips came up off the bed, writhing herself against his mouth. Over and over, she cried out as a great shudder rippled through her, the heat in her core flaring out into bliss.

She floated down some time later, finding her husband looking up at her, his head resting on her thigh and a very satisfied smile on his face.

"You're lookin' pretty pleased with yourself there, Mr. Dixon." She said when she could finally find her voice and she barely recognized the rasp that was coming from her mouth, so overtaken was she over his spontaneous act so early, not to mention her response to it.

"Might have to wake you up like that every morning is all." She had to laugh and then he was chuckling too as he crawled his way up her body, slotting his mouth over hers and the sensation was oddly strange and pleasant, tasting herself on his tongue, musk and salty, as it slid against hers.

She moaned into his mouth as he settled between her legs, his manhood pressing at her wet and swollen folds. She reached between them and dragged the width of him against that spot that was still pulsating from his oral ministrations and then surged her hips upward to meet his thrust as he entered her. Everything slowed from that moment as he leaned up on his arms, braced on either side of her head and looked down at her.

" _God, I love you."_ The whispered confession was ragged and nearly broken as he drove himself back inside her with another thrust she met with fervor. Beth locked her ankles around his backside, maximizing that contact where they were joined as one; truly as man and wife and the friction was enough to launch her from that precipice once more.

She didn't think she'd ever tire of this. She tumbled over that edge, an almost keening coming from her throat as it just kept coming. As she was coming down from her release, Daryl's pace became frenzied, something she'd come to recognize as one of his tells of when he was getting close. Again and again, his length stroked deep inside her and her hands clutched at his back, her fingers taking a claim of their own with each pulse of his length filling her up and making her moan his name.

He came finally with a shudder wracking his body and she held his head against her neck as he gasped and moaned, low and long, his voice a warm rumble against the cool of her throat as his seed spilled deep inside her.

They were both panting by the time it was all over, lying spent in one another's arms and Beth opened her eyes as he rolled to the side.

"I _definitely_ want to wake up like this every morning." She smiled at him saucily and he grinned at her; again that wolfish smile that she was coming to love.

"Thought you'd see it my way" was his only reply as his lips met hers. Beth shivered in his embrace as he pulled her closer and finally broke their kiss some moments later leaving them both slightly breathless.

Daryl looked at her through a half open eye as he pulled away. "But we need to get up. I'm gonna be late to the yard." Beth knew the unspoken worry in that statement was that Daryl thought he'd get ribbing about his morning activities if he was late to work.

Beth laughed at the thought. "Well if they give you a hard time, you can gloat that you're the one that was having all the fun while they were headed to work."

Daryl laughed outright and it sounded so good on him she vowed she would try every day to elicit that response from him. With a playful swat to her rump, he sprung from the bed. "Well I'll have to remember that." He said and then walked to the window and let out a low whistle.

"This is some strange weather we're having. Yesterday was warm and I swear, I'm either going blind or it's snowing out."

Beth got up from the bed, pulling the quilt from the bed around her. Now that her body was not busy exerting itself, the chill in the room was quite noticeable. She looked out the window over Daryl's shoulder with a quiet gasp. It was indeed snowing.

She blinked in disbelief as they both backed away from the window to begin dressing for the day. "May not be getting much done at the yard today after all." Daryl remarked.

Beth began brushing her hair to a smooth sheen before pinning it up for her morning routine. "Well, I'll run downstairs and fix you a hot breakfast before you leave. Coffee too." She smiled at her husband as he buttoned up his shirt and walked over to him after lacing up her boots. "Meet you downstairs slowpoke."

With a quick peck on his lips, she was out the door and downstairs before he could protest. She was in such a good mood, not even a little bit of snow could ruin it for her. Still, she'd better get a fire started in the kitchen. It was going to be a slow and chilly morning moving about the drafty inn with cold weighing into her bones.

Beth sat a fresh cup of coffee in front of Daryl. Irma was not downstairs as of yet and Dale was sitting across the table from Beth, eating his eggs happily. She reached over to grab her own cup for a refill of the piping hot liquid and just happened to catch the gleam in Daryl's gaze as he eyed her cleavage.

She flushed a bright red, remembering how he had pressed his face between her breasts the night before as he'd drove himself deep inside her again and again. She saw that moment flash in his own eyes and felt her face get even hotter. _Heavens, it was barely on 7 a.m.!_

He had the audacity to grin at her, every bit the wolf she imagined him to be the night before. This morning too. Even though it should be scandalous doing things like they did this morning, doing what Daryl had done _to_ her, she couldn't care less.

Still, she didn't want Mr. Horvath looking up and catching Daryl ogling her like that over breakfast. Even if she was his wife, there was still propriety to consider.

With older gentleman sitting right there, she had to settle for a look of admonishment that she barely carried off before erupting into a fit of giggles.

Dale looked up from his plate unexpectedly and smiled between the two of them. "You two have that look of newlyweds. I remember when my Irma and I were at that stage."

No one said anything. When Mrs. Horvath didn't come down to make breakfast, Beth assumed she was not feeling well and it was likely attributable to the cold that seemed to have settled over the town like a wet blanket along with the snow that had not let up yet from the looks of it.

The warmth of the day prior had not allowed the powder to stick to the ground as of yet, but if the cold and the snow kept up long enough, that was bound to change.

Daryl finished his breakfast and Dale was right behind him in heading out the door. Beth set to work on washing up the plates and utensils and stoked the fire to keep it going and began to make some dough for bread for tonight's supper.

The morning passed quicker than she thought with her chores of cleaning the rooms and preparing a simple meal for Irma for lunch which she took in her room. By the time the noontime hour arrived, she was astonished to see the ground outside covered in white and gathering a thick blanket to plummet the landscape into a near blinding whitewash.

She grabbed a shawl off the back of the kitchen chair and pulled it around her tighter and put on another pot of boiling water to make coffee while she waited. Surely Daryl and Dale would be headed back soon in this weather. They'd need something to warm their blood when they returned. For now, she set herself to task with that, trying to worry about how they were faring out there in such steadily declining conditions.

Daryl swore as the log they were moving under the canopy they'd constructed out of large sheets of tarpaulin slipped sideways and landed with a thud just inches from the toe of his boots.

"Goddammit!" The wind was starting to whip the snow about his face and he was not dressed properly for this sudden stormy activity. He was kind of wishing now that he hadn't sent Dale on to the inn, but it was too late now. He'd left nigh on a quarter of an hour ago now while they got the last few logs under the tarpaulin so they didn't get too waterlogged from the apparent dump of snow they were about to get.

He called out instructions to the two men that remained behind to help him with getting the rest of the yard storm-ready. Working together quickly, they finished moving the rest of the logs and secured the tarpaulin with iron stakes normally meant for the railroad ties, but this was an urgent situation. He figured the railway owners wouldn't mind the improvisation too much given he was likely saving them a lot of money in lumber.

By the time they finished their work and parted ways, they could barely hear one another's parting calls over the howl of the wind and as Daryl made his way back towards the inn, the sky had taken on an almost grey hue where the snow was pouring down rapidly now. The wind whipped about his face and in the time it took him to walk 200 yards, he was covered in snow, his boots heavy with each footfall.

He reached up repeatedly to wipe his chin free of the snow that kept caking in his beard. Every breath hit his chest like knives in the center of it, the air so cold and stark. He'd never seen whether turn bad this quickly in his whole life. He trudged on, praying he made it back to the inn before he got lost. It was getting mighty dim in front of him with a near white-out in his vision from the blurring and blinding drive of the snow back in his face in the fierceness of the wind, sharp and biting on his snow-soaked skin.

It was maybe a minute after that and he tripped over a fallen branch, nearly face-planting in a snowy embankment. He got up and dusted himself off and looked up towards home and to his surprise, in that brief time it took him to fall and get back up, there was nothing in front of him but dead white. There might be worse things than being lost out here. He could freeze to death.

With no way of knowing if he was going the right direction and praying on everything he held within him, he picked a direction and plodded forward slowly and hoped to god his worst fear wasn't coming to fruition: He was a tracker and he was utterly and hopelessly lost in a blizzard.

Beth paced the floor of the kitchen as Dale watched out the one window by the door. Irma had joined them by this point, ever watchful of the wall of white outside the door from her perch at the table where she was knitting.

The knitting yarn was a pale blue color and looked soft from where she had turned at the stove and walked over to where Irma was sitting. Maybe if she had something to do to occupy her hands, she wouldn't be near as nervous as she was.

She felt very similar panic to what she had felt as she waited for Daryl to come back from town and those men had showed up. It was hard not to draw parallels to the situation with Daryl gone such a long time. No one was saying what they were all thinking. _He should have been back by now._

"Are you making a blanket?" Beth inquired softly as she sat down. She didn't know why she felt the urge to whisper. On some level she felt like if she spoke too loudly, it might give way to the tears she was just barely tamping down, a knot forming in her throat every other minute thinking about Daryl being lost out there in the storm.

She herself had disappeared in the wake of a storm and her family was still lost to her. Her heart lurched into her throat at the thought of losing Daryl too.

Before the tears could spill over onto her cheeks, there was a loud clomp on the porch outside and a thud against the door. " _Daryl_." A sigh of relief on her lips, her heart still seemed determined to catapult itself from her chest. Her pulse thundered through her as she flew to the door, but Dale beat her there and pulled it open.

But it wasn't Daryl.

It was a stranger. And upon seeing them standing there staring at his presence in the doorway, he swayed back and forth, once and then again. Then, his eyes then rolling back in his head and he promptly crumpled and collapsed right there on the snow-covered porch.

 **Sorry for the cliffhanger you guys! But hey, how about that smut at the beginning of the chapter? Lol I know, it's rough. Will Daryl make it back to the inn? Who is the stranger and why did he collapse? Lots of questions to answer in the next chapter so stay tuned. I'm already hard at work on it. Thanks for reading and leave me love in the comments, if you so desire, xoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story and all my others. I had to take a break from writing this pairing for a while. It seems to have done me some good because I feel more inspired than ever. This chapter sort of flew out of me so I hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you for sticking with me.**

Jesus, it was cold out here. Daryl could hardly believe how fast the snow was coming down and he hadn't found anything that resembled a structure in all the time he had been wandering. He paused to take a breath, steeling his resolve. He couldn't be lost. He had to get back to Beth. She'd be worried sick about him and as it was, he had a burning need to make sure she was inside and warm. He'd need to build them a bigger fire in their bedroom tonight. She always got so cold and with the snow, it was likely his wife would be shivering against him.

He could think of ways to warm her up.

These are the things that kept Daryl going as he stumbled blindly in the total white-out in front of him. Finally, he was able to make out a building. It was the preacher's house, he thought. He stumbled further. If he could make it there, maybe he could get his bearings and make it back home before everything got too covered up.

Daryl stepped up onto the porch and wondered if the older gentleman would even be awake or if he was already passed out in a drunken stupor. He was guessing it was barely on 2:00 p.m. but it was hard to tell in this blizzard. Still, maybe the man would answer his door. He knocked twice and waited, shaking from the cold wind knocking at his ears and making him feel like old man winter himself had just struck his spine with shivers.

The door swung open slowly and the pastor barely opened the door. "Hello, Daryl."

Something was wrong. Immediately, Daryl could sense that the man was not behaving as he normally was. His eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated and Daryl could tell that the man was shaking. Something in his senses warned him that something was terribly wrong here.

"Whoever it is, get 'em in here." The door opened wider and without even knowing how he knew this, he was reminded instantly of the bandits who had been in the area before, the ones that Beth had killed a couple of.

As the door, swung open further for Daryl to step through, because it didn't seem like he had a choice between the tone of the mystery man inside the pastor's house and the blizzard that surrounded them, his eyes landed on the owner of the voice. A man, roughly in his thirties, hair slicked back from his forehead and he was pointing a gun straight at Daryl's chest.

"Get in here and lock the door behind you." The man commanded and Daryl just stood there for a minute as the door was closed by the pastor and he regarded the man. He could take him if he didn't have that gun.

"Who the hell are you?" Demanded Daryl. He found it pretty ballsy of someone to come into the pastor's home and take him at gunpoint. What did he even have that was worth taking? The pastor lived pretty meagerly on what the town paid him and from what he could see, there wasn't anything extravagant about the way he lived.

He had modest furnishings in his home and he knew that he didn't keep money on him. He usually bought everything on credit at the general store and they never charged him because he was their preacher after all. It was the least they could do for their shepherd, even if he was sometimes slightly sauced when he stepped into the pulpit.

"It don't matter who I am. I'm a bounty hunter. We're called The Claimers. I'm here to find out who killed my brother and our friend out in the woods."

Daryl felt his blood go even colder than it was and at the same time he was filled with rage. This was one of the guys that had gotten a jump on Beth. He was sure of it and God help him, he was in his town and there wasn't anything left to do.

Somehow, Daryl was going to kill him. He couldn't let him anywhere near Beth. She was his wife and his whole world and he'd die to protect her.

* * *

"Is he dead?" Beth inquired of Dale who was crouching down at the gentleman's head and listening for any signs of life.

Dale shook his head and looked up to her. He seemed at a loss as to what to do.

"Let's get him inside and get him warmed up." Beth spoke with an authority she didn't realize she possessed until the words were out of her mouth. Her Daddy in his years as a veterinarian had taken care of his fair share of two-legged mammals too, especially after the war began.

Less and less people depended on him for their cows and more often than not her Daddy could be seen helping out at the various medical tents set up around the city of Atlanta to help with the injured soldiers.

She was never permitted to go with him into the field but if someone was brought to the plantation, she was usually one of the first there to offer a helping hand. She didn't know much, but she knew basic skills and how to dress a wound. It was how she had known how to help Daryl when he was hurt by the arrow that had pierced his side.

And hopefully she would have the skills to help this man.

With Dale at the man's shoulders and Beth at his feet, they are able to maneuver him into one of the smaller rooms downstairs. It is barely considered a maid's quarters and they didn't use it for guests so Beth hoped it wasn't too dusty. She had not had a chance to clean it in the past couple of days.

They hoist the man up onto the bed and Beth begins calling out orders for things that she knows she will need. "We need any extra blankets you can find and a fire." Beth didn't want to alarm anyone but she heard the rattle in the man's chest as he took each breath. She hoped she was wrong but running her hand across the man's forehead, she didn't think she was.

After coming in from that blizzard, he should be freezing and near hypothermia, but to Beth's practiced fingers, he has a raging fever.

"I wish I had medical supplies." She whispers to no one in particular.

"Come with me, Beth." Dale says from over her shoulder and she glances back to him. She didn't think he had been listening to her.

"I can't leave him. I think he has a fever and it needs to come down or he may die." She looks into the older man's eyes and she can see an understanding and compassion there.

He nods. "Yes and I think I might have something to help." He doesn't explain further and she rises from where she had been kneeling by her patient and follows the older man out of the room and down the hall.

They arrive at a room at the end that Beth had never even noticed before. It was a small door and tucked at the end of a hallway she didn't frequent since it was on the back side of the inn. Dale produces a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the door and shuffles in the dark while Beth waits for him to light a lamp.

As he does, her mouth forms a small 'o' as a quiet gasp escapes her lips. There on the shelves are dozens upon dozens of medical supplies. More than any hospital in Atlanta, she dares to guess.

"It was the town doctor's before he up and split. The town didn't want to leave it unattended so they put me in charge of it. I keep it locked up. Pretty much anything you might need is here. I don't know what you're looking for, but if you tell me what to keep an eye out for, I can help."

Beth nods quickly, her blood rushing with everything she needs to get the job done and she wonders if this is how her brother Shawn felt when he was a medic in the field. "My Daddy was a veterinary doctor back home, but he also tended to people sometimes. I learned a few things in helping him." She explains and then quickly calls out the names of the things that she will need as Dale gathers them from the shelves. She is not exactly certain but she is fairly sure that her memory is serving her correctly. She knows first and foremost she needs to bring the man's fever down.

Armed with her supplies and Dale following after her, Beth wonders where Daryl could be in this storm. He had to have left the lumber yard already. She knows he is strong and capable, but she can't help but worry.

Back in the room where the man is still lying unconscious but breathing, Beth sets herself to task. Setting aside any propriety, she undresses the man from his wet clothing, and knowing she has no other choice, Beth asks Dale to be her assistant. "We need to get him dry. These wet clothes are just going to keep him sick."

Dale's eyes flash to hers over the bed as they begin their task of getting the man into drier things. "Sick?"

Beth barely dares to breathe the word, but she is almost certain it's what the man has. " _Influenza_."

* * *

A couple of hours pass as Beth and Dale work to get the man's fever down. They've built a strong fire in the room's fireplace and the room is comfortable and Beth has to shed her shawl halfway through the first hour as it begins to get too warm with her remaining so active. Though she is sorry that the man is so sick, she is glad for the distraction.

The man is breathing a bit more even and his fever is coming down but it's still present. He begins to moan in his sleep and every once in a while he breaks out into fits of coughing. She wonders when he will wake up. _If_ he will wake up. Influenza is a deadly disease and though small cases broke out here and there, Beth still remembers stories of the great influenza epidemic of years ago. Her parents spoke of it often as it was the thing that had taken Beth's grandmother from this world.

So far, the man seems to have all the hallmark symptoms and Beth wonders from where he hails and if everyone there is sick with the illness he is clearly carrying.

What's done is done, she reminds herself. Whatever he is carrying, they are already exposed to it. The only thing they can do now is post a quarantine sign outside the inn and hope for the best. Although in this weather, it isn't likely they would have many patrons in the next few days.

Beth thinks again of Daryl and what could be keeping him. Every sound outside the inn has her heart leaping from her chest in anticipation of him returning home. She wets another rag in the basin of cold water from the melting pile of snow she'd had Dale to heap into it, in an attempt to lower the man's fever. It is a desperate measure but one she hopes will save his life. Already he is breathing a bit better and he seems more comfortable though he is still crying out every now and then for someone named Joe.

Every time the name slips past his lips, Beth feels a prickle of fear down her spine from her most recent encounter with a stranger named Joe. It is impossible, isn't? It can't be related. She'd feel so much better about this whole thing if Daryl was home.

She crosses to the window, seeing the wind whipping the snow about the plains in a white-out outside the inn and she prays for the first time in a very long time, _please let Daryl be okay._

* * *

 **That concludes this chapter and I have a lot more planned for the next one and no they won't be separated for much longer, I promise. I hate having them separated too, trust me. But it's necessary for this part of the story. I do actually plan on having the next chapter of this out by the end of the week so stay tuned.**

 **Please be loves and leave a review on your way out. Xoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It's been nearly a whole day. Daryl is exhausted from staying awake all night but there was no way he was going to close his eyes with a murderous bandit pointing a gun at him the whole night, never mind that the bastard had dropped off to sleep once. It had only been for a second. Daryl had almost taken his chance then to knock the man to the floor and get his gun from him.

Daryl only wished he had brought his own gun with him yesterday when he was leaving for the lumber yard. But he'd left it behind, the events of the night before and his and Beth's new nuptials the only thing on his mind.

It was something he was regretting something fierce and it wouldn't be a mistake he would make again, provided that he got out of this scrape alive.

He'd learned a little about the man that was holding Pastor John and his son Chester and himself hostage in the small dwelling the town provided for the pastor to live in. His name was Lou and he hailed from the east like him. He claimed to be a bounty hunter but from the tales this man boasted of he sounded like nothing more than a vigilante. A killer in his book and the way he talked about Joe and Len, his good buddies that Beth had offed when they'd attacked her, like they were some kind of gods that were wronged when they were killed, it made his blood run cold.

He'd told him and the pastor of a few times they'd run across women and what they'd done with them and it made Daryl want to leap across the room and kill him with his bare hands, thinking of those men and their hands on Beth. It made him see red every single time but he fought to keep his anger in check. So far, this man didn't seem to suspect anything amiss with Daryl and his story.

He hadn't mentioned a word about Beth and neither had Pastor John. He'd told Lou that he was a drifter that had been passing through town when Dale had offered him a job for the winter. He didn't breathe Beth's name though she was the only thing on his mind at any given moment. They hadn't had a chance to pull Chester aside yet this morning to tell him not to say anything and Daryl prayed to a God that he didn't know existed that the boy would keep his mouth shut.

He was a bit simple-minded but he was a good kid, always willing to lend a helping hand. He'd helped them out immensely the night they'd arrived in carting bucket upon bucket of water up to their room for Beth to have a bath after her entanglement with those men, one of which was evidently this man's brother. Or was.

He didn't feel any sorrow for the man he'd seen shot to death by Beth and he didn't figure he'd feel any sorrow when he put a bullet in this man's head either. Or choked him to death. He wasn't sure which was more likely to happen. Either way, he was going to die and it didn't matter to Daryl which way he left this world.

The pastor fixed them all a breakfast of corn cakes and they ate close to the fire. The storm looked like it was almost over. He'd also learned from the man that he had friends that were in an abandoned house nearby. They'd stayed there while he went out for supplies to the general store and then he'd gotten caught in the storm like everyone else. He'd not gotten to purchase anything before it hit and had gone to the pastor's house intent on stealing everything he had.

Daryl had to figure out a way to kill this guy and then go after his friends. There was no way he was letting any of them get near the inn.

"Mr. Dixon how's your missus doin'?" Chester walked over to him and sat down beside him, like there was nothing special going on and they weren't being held against their will. He couldn't fault the boy for asking. He was just being polite, but he swore under his breath as he looked across to Pastor John and he flashed him an apologetic look. He stayed quiet for a minute hoping that Chester would maybe catch the hint but more than that he was hoping Lou hadn't heard him at all and he wasn't just caught in a big lie.

But Lou's entire upper body swung around from where he'd been looking out the window at the storm and was now eye to eye with Daryl. He knew.

"Whose missus?" He practically spat the word at Daryl and then looked at Chester. He leaned forward all the way in his chair, pointing the gun up under the boy's chin.

"Ain't no need for that." Daryl's voice was low and gruff and his jaw was set in a hard line. He was barely holding himself together, searing anger burning along every fiber of his being. "Let the boy go."

"Back off." Lou bit back as he ran his hand down the boy's chest and as he did, it made Daryl's skin crawl something awful. There was something decidedly very wrong about the way he was leering at the boy. It was downright unnatural for a man to be looking at a young boy of 12 the way he was looking at him and Daryl felt bile rising up in his throat at the man's intentions.

So he did the only thing he could. "It's my missus. Let the boy go. I lied to you to protect her. She's my wife. Her name is Beth." He feels like he might be sick saying her name in this man's presence. Her very name isn't good enough for him. But he couldn't let this boy be shot to death right in front of him either.

Lou suddenly releases Chester and the boy slumps to the floor. Daryl spares a glance at Chester to make certain he's okay and his father is now speaking softly to him and drying his tears. He barely has a chance to register he's fine before Lou is grabbing him up out of his chair and dragging him to the window.

"Well would you look at that. It's all clear. The storm is gone. Let's go see this missus of yours." Daryl looks out the window and sure enough, the storm is over and the sun is coming out. There's a lot of snow out there but he can see the inn from here and that's a change from last night and earlier this morning.

He herds them all to the door, pointing his gun at him and Daryl takes his time donning his coat again. He is going to try to delay them all as much as possible. As anxious as he is to get back to Beth, he doesn't want this guy anywhere near her. He isn't going to lay a hand on Beth; of that he's quite certain because he'll have to put a bullet in him first. Daryl knows without a doubt he'll die to protect his girl. She's all he has in this world.

* * *

Beth can't quite believe it as she pulls the sheet up over the unnamed man, covering his face. He'd had a fit of coughing and couldn't get his breath and then he'd just stopped breathing. And now, he is dead.

She didn't feel sad for him. She felt oddly detached from everything at the moment. The snow had stopped a little while ago and now that she didn't have a patient to tend to, maybe she could don a coat and boots and go out and look for him. She knew he would look for her if she was missing.

But first she'd have to get Dale so they could see about what they could do with his body. His body was riddled with infection especially in death; besides that, it wasn't exactly considered good form to have a dead body remain at an inn where patrons would be coming to call.

According to Dale, there was a stagecoach due the next day and they were likely to have a few travelers staying with them. That is, if the untimely snowstorm didn't delay their journey. It likely would, but Beth couldn't think about that right now.

She was mentally and physically exhausted and felt near tears at any given moment. She hadn't had any sleep since the night before, her wedding night. Was that really only two days ago. Right now, it felt like a lifetime since she'd seen Daryl and it was killing her not knowing where he was. Over the course of the last few hours, she had imagined him dying in a dozen different ways as her imagination got away from her, leading her mind down paths of such morbidity she'd had to start singing to keep the bad thoughts away.

She stood back up and put a hand to her lower back, grimacing with how stiff and sore she was. Her legs ached with exhaustion and she felt like she could probably fall over but she needed to find Daryl.

She went in search of Dale and found him in his and Irma's bedroom chambers. Irma had come down to help in the middle of the night while Beth went and ate something that she barely tasted. She had stayed with Beth for a good bit and then when she wasn't feeling well, she'd gone back to bed this morning.

Beth guessed it was nearing noon now and Irma was resting quietly in her room and Dale was sitting in the chair beside the window. "Looks like the storm has stopped." Dale says as she knocks softly upon entering.

She feels strange standing there, not quite certain what to say so she just blurts it out. "He's dead."

Dale looks up sharply from his chair and stands and crosses the room quickly and they leave the room to talk in the hallway so as not to disturb Irma's slumber.

"Dead? That was fast." Dale lets out a low whistle. I'll have to see about digging a grave. It won't be easy with all that snow out there.

Beth just nods. She knew he would know what to do. She didn't know the first thing about digging a grave. "I need to find Daryl." Beth looks up at the older gentleman whose eyes are lined with worry. It hadn't been an easy night for anyone.

The two patrons they had staying in their inn had come down and helped stoke the fire in the main room last night and everyone had pitched in and helped fix a simple meal. Beth had been busy for most of the evening tending to her patient and one hour bled into another until it was finally daylight again.

"I wish I could leave but someone needs to stay. I don't suppose I could talk you into waiting a couple of hours and we can get Pastor John over to help out and I can help you go find Daryl. Maybe Chester can come help in the kitchen. He's good at chopping vegetables and helping with dishes. He helps Irma sometimes."

Beth just shakes her head. "I'm sure the pastor and his son will be of great help, but Daryl-." Tears well up in her eyes and before she knows it she's sobbing.

Dale puts out one hand on her shoulder and she goes into his arms and as she breathes in to draw air into her chest, heaving with sobs, she is struck with a homesickness for her daddy so much. Dale is so much like him and she misses her family so.

"I'm sure Daryl is just fine." Dale is saying softly. "He's a strong man and I'm sure he's somewhere safe. He may even be on his way back." He puts his hands on both of her shoulders and pulls away to look her in the eye.

"I've never seen a man love someone as much as Daryl loves you. When you were out there and he had to get back to you, it was like he was burning with a fever. There was a determination and devotion in his eyes that I haven't seen in a person in a very long time. He's strong Beth and so are you."

She runs one hand over her eyes and sniffs back her tears. She is so grateful for his words she leans up and presses her lips to his grizzled cheek. "Thank you, Dale. I needed to hear that, I think."

She gives him a slightly watery smile and dries the rest of her tears and they both go back downstairs.

Just as they round the corner of the hallways that leads to the kitchen, there's the sound of the door opening in the back.

A voice calls out and Beth would recognize it anywhere. "Beth!" It's Daryl! He's back and she can hardly believe it.

She takes off running for the door and finds him standing in the doorway, the Pastor and his son right behind him and another man too that she can see over his right shoulder, but she doesn't think about any of them just now.

All she can think about is Daryl and she launches herself into his open arms. Her arms go around his middle and she fits herself to him until she can hear his heart beating under her ear. His hands are tangled in her hair and he's kissing the side of her head and she feels like crying all over again, in sheer exhaustion and relief. Except, then Daryl is pulling away suddenly, far too soon for her liking, and she can sense in looking over his shoulder that something is very wrong.

"What is-."

The words die on her lips as Daryl is shoved forward into her and he whispers right against the shell of her ear, his voice strained and hoarse. "Find a way to get my gun."

Everything is blur for a moment and then the unidentified man steps forward and they are all standing there in the kitchen staring at him holding a gun to them as Beth feels her blood run cold.

"We're all gonna have a little talk. I think someone here knows what happened to my brother, Joe. And I'm not leavin' until I find out."

* * *

 **Well, as you can see I've thrown the other Claimers into this story. Well, you didn't think they'd seen the last of them after Beth killed Len and Joe? Lol**

 **I know that was a really crappy reunion scene but it was necessary to the plot of the next chapter that it be written that way and I promise I will make it up to you guys.**

 **I wanted to include the next part but honestly it's too big and too much of a turning point in the story, as so much happens next, it really needed to be cut off there. I am still planning on weekly updates for this story. The muse is with me and I'm not letting go. Lol**

 **Please be loves and let me know what you thought of this chapter on your way out. Until next time, xoxoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

It's only been minutes and Beth has never been more scared in her entire life, not since those men attacked her all those weeks ago. She again got that frisson of fear that sent a jolt of electricity through her body and she knew that she was going to have to think fast. She knew where Daryl's gun was. Thankfully it wasn't upstairs. Ever since the episode with those men, she had taken to carrying it with her.

She had let her guard down the past couple of days being snowed in and not expecting any passersby. It's a mistake that she wished now she hadn't made. Then she could have just passed Daryl the gun pretty as you please as he'd come in and asked for it. It probably wouldn't have gone that smoothly but she couldn't keep her mind from the what-ifs at the moment.

She fought to control her nerves and saw Daryl watching her out of the corner of her eye. The man had directed them to sit down at the table and he was sitting across from the five of them, Beth, Daryl, Pastor John and Dale and for whatever reason the man had Chester to sit right next to him. Beth again felt that stab of fear in her gut and there was something very off about this man and the way he kept eyeing her up and down.

"So let's have us a little talk here with the missus. I am wondering if she knows what happened to my brother Joe." He sneers at her and his black beady eyes rake over her body once more and she has to fight not to throw up. It's not going to do anyone any good if she goes and gets sick right now.

Suddenly she thinks of something that might work. "I need to go check on my patient. Then we can have that talk."

"What patient!" The man bellows and gestures with his gun. "You some kind of doctor or something."

"I am." Beth lies easily. "The man in the other room is sick with influenza. You shouldn't even be here." She says and she steels her jaw and looks at him with nothing but determination and Greene fortitude staring him down. "But I need to check on him or he might die. I don't think you want an innocent man's death on your hands." She glances to Dale and he doesn't challenge her at all. If anything, he looks relieved that she has provided a distraction.

She waits and she thinks for a minute that the man is going to refuse her and then she doesn't know what she's going to do to get the gun that she desperately needs to right this situation. She whispers a prayer to God above that he's watching out for him and reminds herself that luck has been on their side so far. She and Daryl had been through so much together already and she'd be damned if she was going to let some vigilante bandit take all that away from them.

"I'll go with you." He says and she quickly shakes her head, momentarily panicking because if he goes with her, he's going to see that she has lied and that the patient has died. She is almost certain that this man is somehow affiliated with her patient lying dead in the back room.

"You can't. He's contagious. I'm already exposed, so I'm the only one who should go." She doesn't think he'd let anyone go with her anyways, but she mentions that for good measure.

"Be back in five minutes or your beloved gets it." He leans forward and brandishes the gun in her face and she can practically feel the tension coming off of Daryl beside her. She wants to tell him that it'll be okay. She wants to tell him that she loves him. She wants to bury herself in his arms and never let him go again in their entire lives.

She nods quickly and even bats her eyelashes at him once for good measure which seems to appease him as he sits back in his chair in satisfaction. "The ladies always love me eventually." Beth fights the urge to be sick again as he runs his thick tongue across his lips, spittle gathering on his chin.

She steels her resolve and leaves the room, not sparing a backward glance at anyone, lest she give up her plan.

* * *

Daryl can hardly control himself as Beth is leaving the room and the man has his eyes on her backside. There is something that wells up in him that makes him know for certain he comes from the Dixon bloodline. He sees nothing but red but somehow he manages to hold onto his temper and sit there. He doesn't know for sure, but he's almost positive Beth has gone for the gun. He doesn't know why she's lied to him about being a doctor or about there being a patient being in the back room.

For all he knows there could be, but he doesn't question it. He's just glad Beth can think fast on her feet and she definitely has by the time she leaves the room. The man goes on and on and Daryl tries to tune him out as he worries about Beth, worries about all of them. But it's hard to tune him out when he's going on and on about what he's going to do to them all.

"As soon as I find out what happened to my brother, we're all going to have a little fun. Starting with me. Guests should go first don't you think and this seems to be a fine establishment you're running here. And if you don't mind my saying so, Daryl, your little missus is my cup of tea."

Daryl did mind him saying so. He minded very much and if the situation was different the man would be picking his teeth up off the floor for even looking at Beth the way he'd been looking at her, let alone speaking of her in such a manner. But right now he had a gun pointed straight at him and he wasn't planning on getting shot today. He would not do Beth any good at all if he got himself killed. No, he'd have to wait and bide his time and trust that Beth could get to the gun. She hadn't been gone a minute yet and he was already antsy for her return.

"It must be mighty nice to have a woman like her to come home to. I used to have that." The man looked out the window a minute. "Maybe I could have that again. Maybe I'll just take your missus to be my own. I could claim her."

Daryl clenched his fists in his lap. Fucking prick would do no such thing. He'd rip his throat out with his teeth if he had to. What the hell was taking Beth so long anyway? He wanted to punch this bastard right in his mouth. Daryl didn't say anything to the man, just looked at him. He had plenty he wanted to say, but he didn't trust himself to speak just now.

"Who's this patient anyway?" Lou suddenly asked.

"Just a passerby. He was real sick. _Is_ real sick." Dale spoke from beside him and he didn't look at the man but there was something off about the whole thing.

"Huh, a couple of my guys were sick too. Then the storm hit. But all my people are holed up in a cabin down the road. Abandoned. I got caught out getting supplies."

Daryl knew the place. It was the old abandoned farm house on the edge of the town. They'd passed it on their way in the first time they'd come through here all those weeks ago.

He thought again about Beth and what was taking her so long. Was she having trouble finding the gun? Was she able to find it at all? Did the mysterious patient she was taking care of need her longer than necessary? As he stared at the end of the gun pointed at him, he prayed to a God he wasn't even sure existed anymore that she was okay and she'd be back soon. Their lives depended on it.

Beth hurries down the hallway and heads to the back room, fishing the key from her pocket. She hadn't wanted anyone wandering in there so she'd locked the door.

She opened it and for whatever reason felt relieved that the man's body was still covered with the sheet. She didn't know what she expected. It was just somewhat disconcerting to have a dead body in one's home. She thought again of how they'd need to dispose of it and didn't know how they were possibly going to get out of this situation to do that much.

She couldn't think about that now though. Her earlier thought about falling ill had sparked another one. She crossed the room to the fireplace where she'd left wet cloths warming by the fire. Handling them carefully as they were quite warm, she placed two on her forehead and one on the back of her neck and held them in place for a couple of minutes, as long as she dared. She was guessing she had been gone about three minutes. She planned to be back long before her five minutes were up.

Finally feeling reasonably warm, she placed the cloths back onto the hearth and dried herself off, and retrieved the gun from her cloak. As an afterthought, she crosses the room to the patient and uncovers his face. He doesn't look dead still. He just looks like he's been sleeping and if for some reason, that awful man wanders in here, he won't know immediately that she's lying.

Satisfied that she's done enough and worried that she's already been gone too long, she takes the gun and tucks it into the top of her skirt and covers it with her long shawl and walks back out of the room, closing the door behind her. There is really no need to lock it now.

She walks back down the hallway and she feels sorry for what she is about to do, but it couldn't be helped. Hopefully Daryl will be able to see through her ruse and reach her before anyone else so she could get him the gun.

She walked back into the kitchen to find Daryl seething with anger, barely keeping it in check. Better now than never.

She puts her hand to her forehead just as she reaches Daryl. "Oh my, I think I'm going to faint." She allows all the muscles in her legs to relax and lets herself slump to the floor, her eyes shutting and letting her head fall to the side.

* * *

Daryl frowns and his heart catapults into his chest as he sees Beth slump to the floor. But then his instincts take over and he knows she is acting. To his practiced eye, he knows what she looks like when she's ill and she was just fine when she walked out of the room. Still, as he crouches over her, she feels hot and clammy and without really knowing how she's done it, he knows she is providing the distraction they need. He feels a surge of pride at her quick thinking and resists the urge to lean down and kiss her square on the lips.

He feels along her waistline and feels the gun and quickly gets it into his hand and leaning over her to disguise his movements, he tucks it into his breeches and covers it with his shirt. For appearance sake, he leans over Beth's chest and presses his head down to listen to her heart and it's all he can do as he tears himself away again to look at the room at large.

Playing into her distraction and knowing what she's done, he addresses their captor. "She's ill. She has a fever."

As if the man does not believe him, his hand shoots out and before Daryl can stop him, his hand is pressing to Beth's forehead, his fingers lingering a little bit too long and he licks his lips as he pulls his hand away, a gesture which Daryl wants to rip his tongue out for.

But he seems satisfied. "We need to get her lying down in another room." As Daryl speaks it aloud, he finds that he likes the idea very much. Beth, to her credit, appears out cold.

"No way. We're all staying right here." The man snorts as if he is about to laugh.

"She's sick. She needs to lie down." Daryl says again.

"It really won't do anyone any good if she is in here. She could be contagious." Dale says and Daryl could honestly hug the man he's so happy he's thought of that.

The man pauses for a long minute and finally nods his head. "You can put her in the room with the other patient. I wanna take a look at this person myself. Just to make sure. But we're all gonna go together." Lou says and Daryl notices that Dale tenses up beside him.

Daryl picks Beth up into his arms effortlessly and notes how much heavier she is since she has relaxed her entire body. If he didn't know better, he would think she was really unconscious with fever. Lou lets them lead as he points a gun directly at Daryl's back and all Daryl can hope is the guy doesn't have a happy trigger finger.

They reach the room and Dale opens it and the man in the bed doesn't awaken when they enter. Daryl goes over to the other bed in the room, a small cot and lies Beth back on the covers.

Suddenly Lou is screaming at them. "That's Dan! You sonofabitches, what did you do to him. Wake her up. Wake that doctor up and make him better right now." He's forgotten about holding his gun up for the moment and is crouching over the other man in the adjacent bed.

Daryl knows it's now or never. He pulls the gun from his waistband while the man's back is turned.  
"She ain't gonna do no such thing." He makes sure that Lou's head is turned so he sees what's coming for him and pulls the trigger, the bullet hitting him right between the eyes.

He slumps over on the other body and Beth sits up beside him looking around at what's just happened, the relief obvious in her eyes as he gathers her up into his arms. It's over and they're together and right now, with his lips pressed to her hair and her sobbing into his chest, this is really all he will ever need in this world.

* * *

It takes hours, but between him, Dale, Pastor John and Chester, they are able to dig shallow graves for the two men once they shovel out a fair bit of snow from the thick blanket that covers the church cemetery lot. They choose two plots near the woods and they don't mark the graves with anything other than two stones at each head. Daryl figures it's more than either of the men deserve.

Daryl and Dale had gone down to the farmhouse to check on the other men. They didn't say anything between the two of them, but they knew when they got there, what they'd have to do. They weren't going to take chances on any of these men coming to terrorize them anymore. It wasn't a chance they were willing to take.

However, when they reached the farmhouse, it was cleared out. It seemed they knew what was good for them, cut their losses and left town. For that, Daryl was extremely grateful.

By the time he dragged himself back inside, Beth had drawn him a bath in their room and he walked in and shut the door, leaning back against it.

He would like nothing better than to take her to bed and ravish her but he had the death and stench of two men on him and he wasn't touching her until he was properly cleaned up.

She was nowhere to be found anyway, so he stripped himself down and lowered himself into the warm water, groaning aloud at how good it felt. He could see a trail of water between the hearth and the washtub he was sitting in so she must have carried all the water herself.

About five minutes into soaping himself up, the door to their room opened and Beth walked in, looking about as tired as he felt.

She didn't say a word. She just looked at him, a smile in her eyes and began to strip herself naked in front of him.

Despite his exhaustion, he felt himself grow hard as her breasts came into view and then as she slipped her last garment from her body and she walked over to stand in front of him at the washtub, he leaned forward and pressed his wet face into her naked stomach and wrapped his arms around her his hands gripping her hips on either side. Just like that, she climbed into the tub with him and sat down right across from him, draping her legs over his, nearly sitting in his lap.

He took the tin cup and wordlessly dripped the water down the front of her body, the droplets collecting between her breasts. All at once, he pressed his lips to hers hungrily and she met his kiss with equal fervor.

He kisses her until they are both breathless and panting for air and finally he pulls himself away to look at her, taking in her big blue eyes appraising him. "It was real good thinking what you did, Beth." He says and she smiles softly at the praise.

"Just did what I had to do. I would have shot him myself if I had to." She didn't say it and neither did he, but he was glad it hadn't been left to her to do that this time. He still had vivid memories of standing over her when she was covered in blood in that grove.

"I know you would have. Glad you didn't have to." He says in a whisper.

They finish their bath as quickly as possible as the water is rapidly cooling in the chill air and Beth is starting to shiver. They get out and dry off and locking their door, they both fall into the bed, not bothering to dress in their nightclothes.

By some unspoken agreement, they just want to be as close as possible. Even if they don't make love tonight, he just wants to feel her skin against his.

They lie on their sides looking at one another before finally she speaks.

"Daryl, I love you. I was so scared." She says and her eyes well up with tears as he pulls her into his arms.

"Shh, it's okay. You don't gotta be scared now. I love you too, Beth. And I'm here and I ain't going nowhere ever again." It is a promise he intends to keep. And as she tucks herself into his side, everything is alright in his world again. Beth is safe and she's in his arms and that's the way things are gonna be from now on.

* * *

 **Hope you like the chapter you guys! It's something I have had planned since I wrote Trail of Memories. Don't worry there will be more sexy times later but I hope you liked their little reunion at the end. Thanks for reading and please leave a review, xoxoxo**


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